Moon Tae-young’s plan—whatever it was—remained a mystery. But one thing was certain: he wasn’t letting a single trace of it show.
In other words, he didn’t feel threatened by anything in his life right now. He wasn’t in a situation where he needed anyone’s help.
Considering Moon Tae-young’s past, he’d built up a high threshold for misfortune. He probably wouldn’t flinch at most crises. A light shower over his head wouldn’t faze him—maybe acid rain would. Only then would he start to appreciate the umbrella someone offered him.
A quiet village, a flawless cover. At present, the chances of him running into real trouble seemed slim to none.
But still…
If there’s no crisis—just make one!
Obvious, really. It’s always easier to ruin something than to get it done.
If you want to throw a place into chaos, you don’t need to understand the system. Just throw a wrench in wherever—it’s bound to blow up.
The catch, though, is this: if you’re going to help clean up the mess, you need to know how to manage it too.
So ironically, it can’t be a real crisis.
“Haah… This is getting complicated.”
Cha Eui-sung tried recalling everything he’d learned working at the Hunter Association. Building your own network wasn’t just about offering solid rewards. You had to create a shared enemy.
Back then, politics were so rampant, you couldn’t even breathe without getting dragged into it. Now, unless someone went out of their way, there was no enemy.
…Which, seen another way, meant he could fabricate one however he pleased. Someone whose buttons were easy to push—but who was also a breeze to take down.
Crack. Cha Eui-sung twisted his body hard enough to make a popping sound. Thinking about why he’d felt so sluggish lately, it likely boiled down to the lack of chances to act.
But now that he’d made up his mind to stir the pot, energy surged through him. A thousand scenarios and moving parts flashed through his mind, weaving themselves into a meticulous plan like warp and weft on a loom.
“Haaah. I really wasn’t trying to make things worse.”
He had hoped that Cheongseri wouldn’t even leave a trace in the Bureau of Regulation’s or Association’s records. But focusing solely on safety had led to this exact mess.
He’d arrived here during the sweltering peak of summer. Now, the heat was already starting to break.
And all he’d accomplished during that time was barely scraping together enough information to understand Moon Tae-young and ease his guard. From the perspective of someone who’d analyzed the situation right after Regression and approached the Demon King to get that close, maybe it wasn’t a bad result.
But to Cha Eui-sung, it just felt… pitiful.
Someone disconnected from what I’m currently working on… Someone I wouldn’t lose sleep over if they disappeared.
Yep. A criminal. Not just any criminal—a convenient one. Someone easy to deal with, but just shady enough to raise alarm bells based solely on affiliation.
In other words, someone who was tied to the Bureau of Regulation or the Association in this period. Maybe even someone in a related position of influence.
A rare profile, sure—but the rarity made it easier to pinpoint. After all, the more smoothly an organization ran, the more psychopaths it seemed to attract.
There was someone in the Bureau who fit the bill. A sinister grin crept onto Cha Eui-sung’s face.
[Kim Jeong-baek. It’s me. I’ve got someone I need you to dig into. They’re with the Bureau of Regulation.]
[Bureau people cost triple the standard rate~]
[No need for dramatics. Just get started. I’m fuzzy on the name, but they’re a B-rank Hunter with the ability ‘Midair Step.’]
[OK, I’ll send over the data.]
***
Lee Sang-jo had a pretty decent day.
The morning traffic was unusually light, and he’d managed to offload a stack of backlogged paperwork onto a junior colleague.
Even on his way home, he got a tip-off from someone. Before he even had time to wonder why they’d sent it to him, the first thought that came to mind was: opportunity.
Lately, things hadn’t been going his way. A confidential informant he’d been using behind the scenes had suddenly gone dark, and on top of that, he’d been passed over for a promotion. Pure bad luck. He was a B-rank Hunter, with more than enough ability, so it all felt deeply unfair.
So when this kind of juicy tip landed in his lap, it was only natural for his eyes to glaze over with greed.
—“I’m certain he’s an unregistered Awakened! I think he’s hiding a weapon, too… It’s usually such a quiet neighborhood. I don’t know why something this shady is happening here…”
“If you want this investigated, you’ll need to be more specific. Anything else you remember?”
—“Uhh, he was young. Tall. But his face… it was really vague, like it wouldn’t stick in your memory…”
He had no idea who the caller was. When he tried to call back, all he got was a repeated beep beep—no way to reconnect.
Still, the fear in that voice? That had felt real. Lee Sang-jo had threatened enough people to recognize fear when he heard it.
Ordinarily, he’d report something like this, form a team, and investigate officially—but a thought struck him: That wouldn’t help me personally.
So that very night, Lee Sang-jo packed his bags. Took some paid leave to make it a long weekend, and brought gear along with him.
The Silent Blade. He hadn’t expected to ever use it again.
—“I don’t know how, but it’s like he could tell where the CCTV cameras were… I think you’ll need to come into the village on foot to avoid being spotted.”
Just that one call had given him plenty of useful intel. It was odd, really—how had they even contacted his secondary phone, which was registered under someone else’s name? Still, assuming the leak came from one of the informants he’d worked with, it wasn’t entirely implausible.
Following the instructions, he first visited a gambling den in the city, far from the actual destination. It was a ground-floor spot disguised as a poker or go-stop PC café, its front windows covered with vinyl film.
After loading a generous amount of credits onto a card and slipping out the back, he trekked to the village he’d been directed to. The journey took maybe a couple of hours.
Eventually, he arrived at the peaceful and serene rural village of Cheongseri.
“Tsk… If I start asking around, I’ll have a tail on me in no time.”
Quietly scoping out the village, he didn’t think it would be a difficult job.
For one, the overwhelming majority of the villagers were elderly. The population was so old, it was almost surprising there was even something resembling a school still standing.
In the rare houses where children lived, the parents looked like they were in their forties at least. Considering the tip had mentioned a young man, there couldn’t be more than one or two possible suspects.
Bingo.
Sure enough, there were only two young men in the entire village. One of them had only recently moved in. Assuming that was his guy, Lee Sang-jo watched Suspect #1 from afar—and quickly crossed him off the list.
The first suspect was tall, sure—but even from a distance, he had a striking, refined look. No way anyone would describe that face as “vague” unless they were blind.
Naturally, suspicion turned to the second candidate—a man who worked as a teacher.
Tall… Is he tall? He’s… yeah, he’s tall.
It was strange. He’d been laser-focused on height and still hadn’t realized just how tall the guy was until after watching for a while.
His face? Lee Sang-jo couldn’t remember a thing about it. No memorable features at all—so plain, only a lingering afterimage flickered in his mind.
Even after scrutinizing the guy, Lee Sang-jo had nearly overlooked him. It was only when he recalled the tip’s details again that a flicker of doubt finally took root.
Wait a second.
Maybe Candidate #2 was using some kind of item or skill that interfered with perception. That possibility flashed through his mind—and just like that, the caller’s oddly specific yet vague description came rushing back, slamming into his chest like a blow.
If that’s the case… he’s the one. Probably.
Watching the man’s back as he walked away, Lee Sang-jo slipped a dagger from his coat and gripped it tightly.
All he needed now was some solid evidence. Once he had that, his little off-the-books mission would wrap up with success.
***
“So, he showed up fast.”
Cha Eui-sung murmured as he swept back the loose strands of hair falling into his face. He could feel the blatant stare from afar—his bait had finally arrived.
Just as expected, the man was alone. With Kim Jeong-baek’s help, Cha had already confirmed that the call hadn’t been recorded. Now that contact was cut off, the guy would be scrambling for more solid evidence.
“Thinking about how on edge I was over that bastard—wondering if I missed something because of him—damn it.”
Lee Sang-jo had been arrested when the Hunter community went into crisis mode after the Oh Se-dan incident. Alongside that scandal, his own past crimes had come to light.
There were plenty of charges, but the most notable were extortion and murder of low-level criminals. Over a dozen confirmed victims, supposedly.
He hadn’t exactly been methodical in his crimes, but he had been careful. If it hadn’t been for Oh Se-dan’s case blowing everything open, he might’ve kept at it for several more years.
Well, thanks to him, the Hunter Association didn’t get treated like the sole cesspool of corruption. So I guess it worked out.
After Oh Se-dan was ousted, the Bureau of Regulation—which had been coming down hard with investigations—finally went quiet. While they scrambled to bury their own filth and calm public outrage, Cha Eui-sung was able to stabilize the fractured Association and seize control quickly.
There was a reason this dimwit, who was neither skilled nor striking in appearance, had been etched into Cha Eui-sung’s memory.
Greedy idiot.
Even now, he’d come here recklessly, just as predicted. The guy had probably doubted the tipster once or twice—he was capable of that much—but in the end, his greed outpaced his patience.
Cha could more or less guess what the bastard would try next. The only reason someone like Lee Sang-jo had been promoted multiple times was because of his cheat-code-level criminal tactics. This time wouldn’t be any different.
As long as I keep the aggro from spilling elsewhere, I’ll be fine.
The one thing Cha Eui-sung actually appreciated about Lee Sang-jo was this: the guy had definitely broken the law more than once. If left unchecked, he’d just create more victims—so doing anything to stop him didn’t even make a dent in Cha’s already flimsy conscience.
It felt a bit wasteful to burn a card like this so soon, but…
“Clean work.”
Maybe this was why Oh Se-dan went around slicing up criminals.
Funny, how someone who had gone to such lengths to distance himself from the Association now felt so comfortable—like he was finally wearing clothes that actually fit.
